


Enough to Share

by caprizant



Category: Heroes of the Storm (Video Game), World of Warcraft
Genre: Haunted Mines, Other, Warmaster Chen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 00:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6032107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caprizant/pseuds/caprizant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking a private moment to escape from the battles of the Nexus, Chen Stormstout confers with his counterpart from an alternate dimension. Warmaster Chen has led a different life, but the two search for something to find in common over brew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough to Share

Raven Court was a gloomy place, even on the outskirts. So a large pandaren, humming jovially to himself as he rode a simple horse, was an incongruous sight. Chen Stormstout caught more than a few glances from townspeople as he rode his mount up to the Skull & Talon tavern. Chen tried to nod comfortingly to them; even though their home had been caught up in the struggles of the Nexus, what did that have to do with them? These people were trying to live as simple of a life as they could.

So he was not offended when a nervous man came to greet him while he was still dismounting. “I suppose you’re with the other one inside,” the man said, nodding to the tavern in such a proprietary way that Chen assumed he must be the innkeeper. “We’ve got food and drink for a peaceful visitor or two, but if you both are here to stir trouble….” The man’s threat trailed off as he gave an involuntary shiver.

“We are here to drink together in peace,” Chen reassured the man, even smiling at him. “There is no battle coming here.”

The man nodded, his expression calming. “That’s good to hear,” he muttered behind his mustache. “This place isn’t far from the mines you lot used to fight over. It’s been quiet for now--”

“--Which is why we chose this place to meet privately,” Chen finished for him. The fear on the man’s face saddened him, and Chen tried to reassure the man that he was safe. “The Gravekeeper has moved on. There is nothing here to fight over anymore.”

The innkeeper gave Chen a hard stare, and slowly nodded. “You know? I trust you. At least more than the other one waiting for you. He’s got a darker mood about him.” He waited for Chen to protest, but the pandaren couldn’t disagree. The innkeeper shrugged as he calmed down, and turned to let Chen inside. “Still better than a grave golem knocking on the village gate, though.”

Chen knew the innkeeper didn’t expect a laugh, so he only nodded. Still, now that it was on his mind, he was concerned. “How _have_ the mines been for you, lately?” he asked as the innkeeper followed him inside.

“Oh, the dead still stir in there from time to time, and we can hear them when it’s quiet,” the innkeeper said. “But with no one going down there to get them riled up, they don’t leave the mines either. So far, things are safe.”

Chen nodded. “Good. Good.”

A few heads turned to look at Chen as he entered the tavern, but seeing as he was speaking on friendly terms with the innkeeper, no one seemed to question his presence. A pandaren might have been a rare curiosity to these people in other circumstances, but -- as Chen had surmised from the innkeeper’s greeting -- there was already another pandaren here, sitting in a dark corner, waiting for Chen. Even as the other patrons turned back to their drinks and games, Chen felt the eyes of the other fix on him, watching his movements carefully. The other pandaren steepled his fingers and leaned forward. Chen only smiled and walked straight towards him. He had nothing to hide.

There, waiting at the table for Chen to arrive, was Chen Stormstout.

The two doubles held each other’s gaze, searching for the tiny differences that would set them apart. It was a natural reaction to meeting yourself in the Nexus. Touching so many realms, and across timelines, there was no telling just how many Chen Stormstouts were out there, or what they were like. And so, to make sure this was in fact the other self he was looking for, Chen asked the agreed upon question they had planned: “Why do we fight?” he said in his smooth, easy voice. It was a common question to hear in the Nexus, as the mysterious realm called out to people from Azeroth, Sanctuary, and beyond, more and more summoned all the time. But to these two Chen Stormstouts -- and maybe to any others out there -- the question meant something else.

The other Chen narrowed his eyes thoughtfully as he answered. “The pandaren know this is the wrong question to ask.” Chen nodded and joined his fellow at the table. As he sat, he thought about the other’s voice. It was so much like his own, yes, but it was tired, bitter, and broken. To Chen, the voice’s hard edge was the biggest tell that he was not merely looking in a mirror; the voice to him was a larger difference even from the plates of lacquered armor the other wore. The field equipment cut so imposing a figure, so unlike Chen’s own relaxed comfortable clothes, that no one else in the Skull & Talon had even realized the two pandaren had the same face.

Here was another difference: the traditional question ran through Chen’s head, though he didn’t say it out loud. _What is worth fighting for?_ But he knew this was not the question the other pandaren asked, in whatever version of Azeroth they called home. He held his tongue, knowing the words would be meaningless to the one across the table.

And so the other filled the silence. _"Who are we fighting for?"_ he quoted. His face scrunched passionately as the question hung in the air. “That has always been the question worth asking. Especially here, in the Nexus.”

Chen could tell he was warming up the conversation, so he filled in some answers even though he knew they were incorrect. “The Grave Keeper? The Raven Lord? Queen Nightshade?” The other pandaren waved his hand in annoyance. Chen waited a meaningful moment before adding one more option. “The Thunder King?”

The pause was thick. “I am Lei-Shen’s Warmaster. I will not deny this. I do _not_ fight _for_ him, nor any of these self-important realm lords.” The Warmaster looked Chen over, his expression guarded. “Whether in the Nexus or at the Siege of Darnassus, I fight for myself.”

Chen continued to say nothing for a little while longer. The Warmaster had raised his voice without realizing it, and heads were starting to turn their way again. After a moment, the Warmaster seemed to notice as well, and forced himself to calm down, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I am no Warmaster,” Chen said. “If I may call myself a master of anything, it is a simple brewmaster. And we did not come here to fight. We came here to drink.” Chen waved for two beers from the innkeeper.

For all the differences, they had this still in common. The two pandaren drank eagerly, swallowing their beers faster than any human could with any appreciation. But once empty, they sat in quiet contemplation. “A bit dry,” the Warmaster said. Chen agreed, but didn’t want to be overheard criticizing the beer too heavily. “The hops are interesting here,” he said, finding a positive note, and the Warmaster nodded in agreement. They spent a few more minutes discussing the brew’s qualities before ordering another round for themselves. With each drink, the Warmaster relaxed more and more, and the differences between the two started to vanish.

“Peaceful moments are rare, for our kind,” the Warmaster said. Chen almost wished he could agree; this was a difference between them that was insurmountable, written into the histories of their respective worlds long before their birth. Chen tried to imagine growing up under a mogu lash, forced to lead an army of pandaren slaves who had never thrown off their yoke. He could not.

“You must think me soft,” Chen found himself saying.

The Warmaster chuckled. “The thought had occurred to me,” he said. “But fortunately, I saw you fight, and there was nothing soft there.”

“It is a shame we shall never fight on the same side,” Chen said without thinking. He had meant it casually -- among the Nexus’s many quirks, it never called two versions of the same people to the same field, unless they were fighting _against_ each other. But with the memory of the Siege still hanging over the Warmaster’s head, his face went blank. And Chen realized the unintentional double-meaning: with who they were, and who they had become, if ever one had somehow arrived on the other’s Azeroth, they would no doubt be on different sides of those wars, too.

Chen grunted. He still wanted the Warmaster to be his friend, in whatever way they could find. He felt like he had a whole pandaren tradition to pass on. And with all these heroes gathered from Azeroth, who knew what impact the Nexus might let them have on each other when they returned home? Chen could see the storm clouds on the Warmaster’s face, and knew that rage could be directed. But for now, as a peace offering, he pulled forward the keg he always carried with him.

The Warmaster raised an eyebrow and accepted it. Not bothering with a mug, he simply lifted the entire keg to his lips and drank deeply. Chen could not help but smile proudly at the Warmaster’s eyes lighting up the moment he tasted the beer. The Warmaster drank, drank, and drank some more. He set the keg down carefully, wiping his lips with a military bearing. “That,” the Warmaster admitted, “is the best brew I have ever tasted.”

“Thank you,” Chen said. “It’s an old family recipe.” He turned the keg to the side, so that the Warmaster could see the STORMSTOUT BREWERY label.

The Warmaster chuckled and shook his head. “Amazing,” he said. “That the Stormstout family could have time to brew at all, let alone perfect the art.” He paused thoughtfully, listening to his own words again. Chen knew the Warmaster was having as much trouble imagining Chen’s life as Chen had his. The Warmaster lifted the keg again and took a much slower drink, savoring it in a way Chen had never seen. He wondered what the Warmaster tasted.

The Warmaster passed the keg back to Chen, motioning for him to take a drink. Chen lifted it, still finding it acceptably full. The keg was generous, and Chen was a generous pandaren; he always, always kept it full to the brim. The Warmaster leaned forward. “Tell me more about this free Pandaria,” he said.

 

The storm was brewing.


End file.
